


Like Old Times

by Gort



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Hats, Mild UST, Mission Fic, Pre-Canon, good dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 08:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: Pre-series AU. Phil and Melinda always did work well together.Beta'd by Sunalso





	Like Old Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentmmayy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/gifts).



Sitting in the back of the nondescript van parked in a municipal parking lot in the middle of May was warmer work than Phil expected. He’d already unbuttoned his jacket and it was barely 11 am. The agent next to him was poking at their encrypted radio equipment while Phil watched the monitors. So far things looked pretty mundane—just a typical weekend in small-town America. The parking lot was filling up, and families were slowly trickling by, heading for the main street.

Except somewhere out there was the contact they’d been cultivating for months, and he was finally ready to cooperate.

The radio crackled to life, and Phil had to strain to hear Melinda’s voice. “We have a problem,” she hissed.

He fumbled for the mike. “Agent May, repeat?”

Melinda sighed. “Alire’s…out of commission.”

Phil rubbed one temple. “Mel,” he sighed.

“It wasn’t me. He’s in the bathroom. Remind me to ask him where he ate last night so I can avoid it.”

“We can’t scrap this,” Phil said, watching more families walk by outside. “It might be our only shot. This guy spooks easily.”

“I know,” Mel said. “Meet me at the rendezvous point. You’re coming in with me.”

“Uh.” Phil turned to look at the other agent, who shrugged. “Stand by, I’ll be right there.”

***

“Mel,” Phil whispered. “Come on, can’t you take someone else?” The sound carried in the empty warehouse, and he wouldn’t swear to it, but the other agents suddenly all looked very busy.

Melinda narrowed her eyes at him and finished rolling up his shirt sleeves. “You think we should leave this to someone else?” she said. She was wearing jeans and a loose, bright red top that, quite frankly, did nothing to soften the fierce expression on her face. He was sure she was carrying at least three concealed weapons, since he’d approved them, and her, for this mission.

It wasn’t the first op he’d run, but it was the first that Fury had personally asked him to oversee, and Phil seriously didn’t want to screw this up. Somewhere out there was an 084, and their contact had promised to provide a location. All they had to do was…attend this local craft fair and let the guy come to them.

“No,” Phil sighed as he pulled off his tie, resigned, and then froze as Mel attacked the top button of his shirt. Her fingers grazed his skin and a shiver ran down his spine. “What are you doing?” he hissed, trying to take a step back. She grasped his collar firmly and undid one more button before patting his chest.

“There, now you look less like a damn cop. Have you ever considered letting your hair grow out?”

She reached up but Phil caught her hand. “No,” he said firmly. The ghost of a smile drifted across Melinda’s face, and Phil rolled his eyes. “Just leave the hair, okay?”

“Maybe we’ll get you a hat.”

Phil narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need a hat.”

“Sure,” Melinda said, sounding amused.

That didn’t sound promising. “Am I ready?” he said, spreading his arms wide.

Melinda smoothed down the front of his shirt one last time, and a tiny, treacherous part of his brain tucked the sensation away to pull out and appreciate later. “As you’ll ever be.” She slanted a look at him. “Try not to get distracted.”

“That was one time!”

Someone handed him a wristwatch and a set of car keys, and Phil rounded the car to open Melinda’s door. She settled into the passenger seat of the beige sedan and lifted her eyebrows. “Let’s hope no one brought any puppies to this thing.”

“No dogs allowed, I checked.” Phil closed the door behind her and moved to the other side, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car. “And don’t even pretend Cap wasn’t worth it. You love him as much as I do.”

“I had to wait on that window ledge for half an hour, Phil. It was raining.”

“It’s nice and sunny today,” he said hopefully, steering the car out of the warehouse.

“You do not need another dog.”

“Fine.”

***

“Oh, honey, look at this one!” Melinda held up a handmade something-or-other from the pottery booth and Phil squinted at it, trying desperately to figure out what it could be. It was too broad for an ashtray and too short for a vase, plus he wasn’t sure it could hold water. She was smiling, which was not something he got to see very often, and he was starting to appreciate the fact that Alire hadn’t been able to play his part.

“Nice,” Phil said, giving up on identifying its purpose.

The woman behind the table beamed. “My grandson made that one. He's got quite an eye, don’t you think?”

Ah, that explained a lot. “The colors are beautiful,” Melinda said. She tucked a hand under Phil’s arm and nudged his side. “We should swing by on the way back.”

Phil patted her hand and smiled at the woman. “Sounds good, sweetheart.”

“You two have fun!” The woman settled back in her canvas chair and Phil gave her a wave as they headed down the street to check out the other wares on display.

“We need a drink,” Melinda murmured.

“Roger that,” Phil steered them toward a white tent with a hand-lettered sign listing beverages and prices. There wasn’t a lot of shade, and a lemonade sounded really good right now. Also, it was one of the agreed-upon signals for their contact. The color of Mel’s shirt and the drink, plus a couple of other tricks of the trade would let the guy know they were here, and they hadn’t picked up any tails.

Frankly, Phil thought this guy was being a little too paranoid, but who knew what this 084 did, if it even was one. The last few objects had turned out to be washouts, but they couldn’t take any chances. It’d been a few years since he’d met an actual alien, but the fact that they were out there still tripped him up sometimes. At least he was getting better at keeping a straight face.

“Lemonade?” He held up two fingers to the little kid behind the table, who happily filled two plastic cups with lemonade before accepting the dollar bills Phil was holding. “Honey,” Phil said, passing Melinda a cup.

“Thank you,” she said, absently scanning the crowd. She must not have seen anything suspicious, because she tucked her hand back in the crook of his arm as they strolled along.

It was nice to be working with her like this, it’d been a while. She’d preferred to stick with special ops while he had gravitated towards the administrative side of things which, granted, was a little less exciting, but only in terms of gunfights. Every upgrade in his security clearance had opened his eyes to something new, and he thought that had to be just as cool as flying helicopters and jumping out of planes.

“Watch,” she murmured under her breath as they stopped in front of a booth overflowing with knitting projects. There were scarves and shawls and gloves that made Phil’s skin itch just looking at them, but that wasn’t what he was supposed to be paying attention to, so he left Melinda to charm the vendor while he set down his cup and fiddled with the watch on his left hand, eventually taking it off and making a production of securing it on his right hand. “Better?” Mel asked when he was finished.

“Much,” he said, retrieving the last of his lemonade. There was a bag dangling from her wrist that hadn’t been there before.

“I got you a hat,” she said innocently, although the smile she gave him was anything but.

Phil groaned.

“Come on, one more stop,” she said, tugging him back through the crowd.

***

“What do you think, buddy?” Phil asked, opening a beer as Cap inspected his new water dish. It was a bit lopsided but Melinda had been right, the colors were good. The blue was bright and crisp around the rim, fading into white near the bottom.

And it held water just fine. “Mel got that for you,” Phil told his dog. “I think she’s forgiven us for leaving her out on that ledge.” He thought of the bright blue, lopsided beanie she’d gotten him, now hanging in the foyer even though he’d insisted he’d never wear it. He was pretty sure the drop had not required an actual purchase, no matter what she claimed. “Well, she’s forgiven you, anyway.”

Cap panted, dripping water on the kitchen floor and watching Phil with a hopeful expression even though he’d just eaten.

The information they’d gotten had been passed off to a collection team, and Fury had given him a nod during the debriefing, which meant he was doing damn good. Plus, he’d gotten to work with Melinda again, even if was just for a little while.

Phil tipped his beer toward Cap and took a sip. “Another job well done.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Ness! I hope it's a great one <3
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr @robotgort


End file.
